


Oleander

by give_me_back_the_night



Category: Voltron - Fandom, Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, How tag?, Hurt/Comfort, Laith, Langst, M/M, Song fic, duh - Freeform, keith is a good bf, klance, lance is sad lmao, mother mother, please dont hurt me, song lyrics innit, song: oleander, this is my first ever fic yall, this is really bad im sorry, um
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-10
Updated: 2019-02-02
Packaged: 2019-09-15 19:22:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16939215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/give_me_back_the_night/pseuds/give_me_back_the_night
Summary: wagwan, this is my first ever fic on here so yeah I'm sorry it's bad lmao. Inspiration is from a cool song called Oleander (it's also the title of this fic, wow) by Mother MotherBasically, Lance reflects on the bad days and how Keith is always there to pick him back up again.It's a lil bit of me just exploding all my shitty emotions onto the page except I don't have a Keith in my lifeEach chapter is basically a line of the song, some will be longer than others and they aren't necessarily linked.





	1. You stood beside me while I was out of my mind

You stood beside me when I was out of my mind 

Some days are number than gloveless fingers on a Monday morning in February. It’s a similar feeling to when you wake up at 2 am five hours into a seven-hour flight back home to reality. When you’re not actually awake- you have a vague understanding of your own existence, but the rest is hazy. I was only aware that I was sat with my back to the wall on the floor of our apartment with my knees to my chest and my hands gripping at my hair because my boyfriend was sat by my side gently grounding me in the same way that he had done many times before. I could feel the firm press of his fingertips at my forearms trying to pry my hands away from my head, to release the grip on my hair that I would be unaware of if it wasn’t for his hold. All the while he spoke to me, not in whispers because he knew they would space me out even more than I already was, but in velvety rounded murmurs, reassuring me that I was okay. I didn’t feel okay, but I was immensely grateful for him being there for me. 

 

On one of my worst days, Keith wasn’t there to ground me, and I witnessed the effects that my own brain had on me when no one was there to help me. He had left a few hours beforehand for work, like he does almost every day, to go and design next generation aircrafts and train student workers at the Firm. Today was my day off, like it is every Thursday, and I should have spent it grading work for my class of twelve-year old's. I didn’t. Instead I kept quiet while my boyfriend busied himself getting ready and I busied myself making him coffee and breakfast. I’m thankful for the fact that I was able to hide the aching feeling inside so well. I knew that it would only worry him at work, and I don’t think I could handle that guilt. The weakness of not being able to hold myself together enough when he wasn’t there already made my legs feel weak and my stomach turn. 

So, as soon as the door to our apartment closed for the second time (he forgot his lunch the first), I let out a shaky breath and stumbled back to our room, willing myself not to collapse to the floor just yet. I was angry at myself for not knowing why I felt slightly too hot and empty inside. I was angry that I relied so much on Keith to keep me together. I was frustrated that the one day where I could really use a distraction, a reason to not lay in bed and contemplate my self-worth, was the one day that I was at home and Keith was at work. It frustrated me that I couldn’t pull myself together on my own, that I was weak, and useless, and pathetic. 

I pulled my phone out of the front pocket of my sweat pants (‘don’t put your phone in the back pocket, babe, do you know how easy it is for someone to steal it when it’s in the back?’) and looked at the time. I don’t know how much time I thought had passed. It hadn't felt too long, not too short, but an hour had passed and that in itself angered me. Looking back, I’m sure that if it had been five minutes it would have equally angered me. Still seven hours until Keith returned. So, either seven hours of pulling myself together and being absolutely okay again before he got back, so he wouldn't notice anything was up, or seven hours of destroying myself from the inside out. I’m sure you can guess which option ran its course.


	2. I Broke The Glass And You Were There To Sweep It Aside

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> hhhhhh

_I broke the glass and you were there to sweep it aside_

At some point, I ended up in the bathroom staring at myself in the mirror, and at some point, I started crying. At another point I decided to let out all of my pent-up anger and frustration on the cheap Ikea mirror that hung lopsided on the wall. I’m assuming these statements are in order, but to be honest I'm not sure. I'm just vaguely aware of realizing each thing had happened. I have nothing against mirrors. I think it’s me I'm against. It’s definitely me.

So in the end, Keith gets home. I don’t hear the door close slightly too harshly, or the wind whistle through the house. I don’t hear my boyfriend’s sigh of relief as he’s glad that another day of work is done. I don’t smell the three boxes he is holing in his hands, Two veggie burgers and chips, and twelve onion rings, straight from the kebab shop. I don’t hear him call out to me, hear the smile in his voice or the cold in his teeth. I just watch small droplets of red slip out of my knuckles and on to the tiles where I am sat, surrounded by shards of glass, some that I had absent-mindedly picked out of my hands as the realisation of my actions set in. I just sit, unaware of his presence until he is there in front of me, gently picking me up to stand and placing my hands under the sink. At no point do I look up at him, I just stare at the blood wash away with the water, and at my boyfriend’s hands as they carefully pull the few remaining shards of glass and drop to the floor. I clean that up later, he says. What Happened? He asks.

‘Lance?’

I continue to look at my feet as he walks me out of the bathroom, careful to avoid either of us stepping on the glass. He guides me to our room, left out of the bathroom and then five steps and to the right. Keith sits me on the bed first, before sitting with his back to the wall, cross-legged, and pulling me over to sit facing him in his lap. He places a hand on my jaw and tilts it gently upward to look at him. His eyes are wide, but his eyebrows are furrowed, and his lips are slightly parted. He looks directly into my eyes and then to my wet cheeks, seeing that my hair is stuck to them. Pulling the hair away and back, he sighs softly. It isn’t an angry or frustrated sigh, although in the moment I was sure it was one of the two.

‘hey, lance, talk to me.’ he says in that soft voice he does sometimes. My breath catches and my eyes prick with salty tears. Keith’s face contorts into one of even more worry and my heart breaks a little bit. I made him feel like that. If it wasn’t for me, we could be curled up on the sofa eating burgers and watching Skin Wars. But the burgers are placed on the table in the kitchen, definitely getting cold. Keith hates cold burgers. I look down in a feeble attempt to mask the tears starting to slide down my cheeks and then I'm drawn inwards by firm hands pressed to my back, my face pressed into the crook of my boyfriend’s neck.

‘It’s okay, let it out’

‘I’m right here’

‘I’ll always be right here’

_And if you left me, Rest assured it would kill me._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wowie its been long lmao i lowkey forgot i started writing this but hey  
> im home alone and stressed out so

**Author's Note:**

> wow I want to die  
> thanks for reading i guess
> 
> The next chapter is a continuation :))


End file.
